


burning with you

by astroblemish



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, that's it that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroblemish/pseuds/astroblemish
Summary: For someone who can’t drive, Chanyeol sure does have an obsession with cars. Then again, maybe that just depends on who’s driving.





	burning with you

**Author's Note:**

> I hate ko ko bop teasers i hate exo i hate chenyeol and i hate myself and this thank u.
> 
> Sometimes To Cure Writer's Block A Man Just Has To Write Unabashed Shitty Porn.

* * *

Chanyeol has a problem.

“And Jongdae has a car,” Baekhyun suggests. “Boom, problem solved.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Chanyeol says, and shoves Baekhyun, forcing him to lose his balance as he nearly falls off the edge of the fence, snickering. “Have you met Jongdae? He’s never gonna agree to that.” Chanyeol wrinkles his nose. “That car is like, the child that he birthed from his non-existent uterus.”

“Did the baby come out his dick or his ass?” Baekhyun asks, squinting into the distance. “Actually, wait. I don’t want to know. Surprise me.”

“It was a metaphor, dude,” Chanyeol says, with plenty of disgust. “Why are you like this?”

“I was dropped on my head as a baby,” Baekhyun replies effortlessly, picking at the dead skin around his nails. “But seriously. The fact that Jongdae loves his car so much only proves how many fantasies he has about fucking someone in the backseat.” Chanyeol blushes; Baekhyun sticks out his tongue, grimacing. “Eugh. Just saying that left a bad taste in my mouth.”

“You’re the one who’d asked if we’d diddled recently,” Chanyeol mumbles, rubbing the tip of his nose with his palm in embarrassment.

“I hope you do diddle, so I can constantly remind Jongdae of the fact that he diddled with someone who actually says _diddled_ ,” Baekhyun snorts, hopping down from the fence. The long grass crunches beneath his boots, and he flips the ends of his mullet back over his shoulder dramatically. Chanyeol rolls his eyes.

“What am I meant to say?” He asks rhetorically. “Make love?”

Baekhyun gives a full-body shudder. “ _God_ no,” he says, and claws at his tongue, as if to wipe the taste away. “Just say _sex_ or _fucking_ like every other normal person over eleven and under eighty-five.”

“I dunno,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Since you hate it so much, I think ‘diddle’ might just catch on.”

Baekhyun groans; Chanyeol grins. Serves him right for putting the idea of fucking Jongdae in the backseat of his old, restored ‘61 Lincoln convertible into Chanyeol’s head right now. How is he meant to think about anything else?

Fucking _shit_.

 

 

 

 

 

So maybe Chanyeol’s problem isn't a problem so much as it’s just a _situation_.

See, Chanyeol somehow won the life lottery and ended up with the hottest, bestest boyfriend this crappy dead-end town has to offer, but with Kyungsoo crashing on Jongdae’s bedroom couch over summer break and Chanyeol still rooming in his parents’ basement, he’s been having difficulty properly appreciating said hotness and bestestness. With, you know, his hands, and mouth, and other readily available orifices.

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae says quietly, and Chanyeol hums in acknowledgement before Jongdae presses their mouths together, gently. “Think you can keep quiet for me?”

Chanyeol’s pretty sure he could do anything Jongdae asked of him but hey, Jongdae doesn’t need to know that.

Chanyeol nods, swallowing, and the movie plays forgotten in front of them on Chanyeol’s shitty laptop as Jongdae starts kissing down Chanyeol’s jaw, his neck, along the collar of his shirt.

Chanyeol’s pretty sure his parents hate him and that's why they have paper thin walls --neither of them can stand it when Chanyeol bangs his drums, imagine their reaction if he was banging Jongdae instead (or, uh, vice versa). He and Jongdae are both loud people, it just kind of comes with the territory --Chanyeol had just never expected that his own goddamn mouth would be a cock block.

Speaking of mouths.

“ _Fuck_ , Jongdae,” Chanyeol breathes out, as Jongdae starts kissing down his abdomen, the blanket over his head.

“You have to be quiet, remember?” Jongdae murmurs, voice in a lower octave, and Chanyeol nearly squeaks just at that alone. “This okay?”

Chanyeol nods so hurriedly something in his neck cracks, and Jongdae chuckles breathily as he zips down his fly and starts mouthing along the outside of Chanyeol's cock, pressing his tongue against the cotton.

Chanyeol _wheezes_ in place of moaning, and he can feel the curve of Jongdae’s smile against his skin when he tugs down Chanyeol’s shorts and starts nosing up the edge of his thighs. Fucking _tease_.

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol whines, barely above a whisper, tugging on Jongdae’s hair. How long has it been since they’d last had sex? Four weeks? Five? How many times had they been left with half-finished handjobs in the back of the bathroom at the diner where Jongdae worked because Chanyeol would see questionable stains and get freaked out? It’s weird to physically miss someone when they’re always _there_ but Jongdae and Chanyeol had had an active sex life before they’d even called themselves a couple; it’s just a part of their relationship that they’re both kind of severely missing.

Jongdae finally pulls Chanyeol’s dick out and sucks around the head, Chanyeol inhaling shaky at the sensation. Jongdae looks up at him through dark eyelashes, contrasting against bleach-blonde hair, and he sinks down and down and down as--

“Chanyeol?” Chanyeol’s mom asks, as she knocks, and Jongdae scrambles to sit back up as he and Chanyeol make a fuss about pulling the blanket over his body and pretending that they’re watching the movie instead of having sex. Smooth. “Dinner will be ready in five-- Oh.” She smiles brightly. “Hello Jongdae.”

“Hi Mrs. Park,” he replies, smiling the most charming smile in his collection as he discreetly wipes the drool off his chin.

“Will you be joining us for dinner?” She asks, giving Chanyeol a look that more or less means _I didn’t know he was coming and now I look like an unprepared fool_ which he only rolls his eyes at; as if Jongdae isn’t an expected family member, at this point.

“Nah, that’s alright,” Jongdae says, and flicks Chanyeol a smirk, glancing downwards at his crotch too quickly to catch. “I just ate.”

Chanyeol laughs, high and strained; his mother just smiles.

“Well come up whenever you’re ready,” she tells them, and the basement door clicks shut quietly behind her.

“Dude, I love your mom,” Jongdae says, as soon as her footsteps can’t be heard on the stairs. “But one of these days you need to tell her that we’re twenty-five, not fifteen.” Jongdae sighs, slumping back against the old, tattered couch with a relieved sigh. “We have needs.”

“I just can’t believe I keep getting cockblocked by my own mom,” Chanyeol admits, and frowns as he stares down at his dick.

“Is it dead?” Jongdae asks, after a moment of silence.

“He’s dead,” Chanyeol sighs, grimacing at the wetness around his dick from Jongdae’s saliva, tucking it back into his underwear with regret.

Jongdae winces. “You sure?”

“Long gone… withered and wilted.” Chanyeol sniffs. “Farewell, Chanyeol Jr., you will be missed.”

Jongdae pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why am I in love with someone who calls his boner _Chanyeol Jr?_ ” He mumbles, slumping.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” Chanyeol snivels. “I’m actually going to fucking cry. My boner died and now I’m crying after failed sex.” He wipes his nose on the back of his hands. “I just want to get _offff_ ,” he whines.

Jongdae exhales and pats Chanyeol’s head gingerly. “There there Yeollie,” he says, sighing. “Maybe you can take a weekend off? Or i can get a few shifts covered for a day and we can just, rent a motel in the city--”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol laughs, wiping away his gross snottiness. “We need money more than we need to fuck.”

“My opinion about that changes everyday,” Jongdae says wistfully, tilting his head onto Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Even capitalism cockblocks us.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Chanyeol offers. “Then maybe we can try for a round two?”

“I should go to work,” Jongdae says, checking the clock on his phone. “Maybe tomorrow…?”

Chanyeol winces. “I promised I’d help Baekhyun with the horses.”

Jongdae clicks his tongue distastefully. “You never are in the mood post-horses...” he frowns at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol frowns right back.

“Soon,” Chanyeol promises, amending it to, “Eventually?”

Jongdae laughs as he stands, smoothing down the hair Chanyeol had tugged at with his fingers. The movie is scrolling through endless credits.

“Eventually,” Jongdae promises, and leans down to kiss Chanyeol, long and soft. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Chanyeol says, eyes slipping shut as Jongdae kisses the top of his forehead. He grins.

“Enjoy your right hand~” he calls, from the doorway, and Chanyeol throws a pillow, only for it to thump against the door pathetically. Relatable, Chanyeol thinks, and sighs as he changes out of his Jongdae Appropriate™ clothes into pyjamas, heading upstairs to have dinner with his parents.

 

(“Jongdae is always so lovely,” his mother comments, as Chanyeol passes over a vegetable dish. “You should invite him around more often.”

Chanyeol sighs.)

 

 

 

Chanyeol had never truly realised just how _difficult_ it is to have sex when you still live with your parents. Fuck, he should’ve moved out years ago, but cash was low and rent was too high and there’s nothing around these parts other than old family homes and creepy out-of-place cottages in the woods. Jongdae scored big time managing to split the sections of a house with Sehun, Minseok and Jongin, but Kyungsoo still crashes on his couch and refuses to leave the house when the temperature is higher than 20ºC --which, in summer, is like, _always_.

Jongdae’s exhibitionism kink can only get them so far when Chanyeol can’t even handle Toben being in the same room when they make out. It’s not like Chanyeol is dependent on sex or anything but-- fuck, who is he kidding, he may be twenty five but he may as well be seventeen. It’s fucking _getting_ to him.

Which is how he ends up excusing himself for the wet dream he has about Jongdae eating him out on the backseat of his car --that, and on it being Baekhyun’s fault, of course. Chanyeol is twenty-five years old and having wet dreams about his own fucking _boyfriend_. This is ridiculous.

“I didn’t know you liked cars,” Junmyeon notes, as Chanyeol flushes and closes the browser he’d been scrolling through since no tourists have come through, praying Junmyeon didn’t see the tab open labelled _Car Sex for Dummies_.

“Oh yeah totally I uh-- Love cars,” Chanyeol lies, even though he failed his driver’s test six times and doesn’t know which foot pedal does what. He just needs somewhere to set all these daydreams he can’t stop having. “Love the way they… just… move.”

“Chanyeol’s been having car sex fantasies instead of doing work,” Yerim comments casually, without even looking up from her computer. “You can tell because he’s Jongdae-drooling.”

“I don’t drool!” Chanyeol argues, let alone a Jongdae brand of it; Junmyeon gives him a pointed look.

“That’s the part you’re choosing to deny?”

Chanyeol snaps his jaw shut, comeback-less. Junmyeon pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Can’t you at least pretend to be PG-13?” He sighs, suffering, right as a group of tourists walk through and Junmyeon mumbles to himself while disappearing into the back office. Yerim blows Chanyeol a kiss.

 _Ugh_.

 

 

 

 

The summer rain makes for a suffocating smog of humidity as Chanyeol sniffles unhappily outside the information centre while he works, hair dripping as he waits for Jongdae to pull up to the curb.

“Why didn’t you just wait inside?” He chastises, clicking his tongue. The fabric hood is pulled up, and the raindrops pelt against it. Jongdae frowns, reaching in the backseat for a towel to put on the passenger seat so Chanyeol’s dripping won’t ruin the upholstery. If only Jongdae was just a little less anal-retentive about his car, Chanyeol could be getting laid. Sigh.

“Because Junmyeon’s pissy,” Chanyeol mumbles, as Jongdae just hums, reversing out of the spot.

“And why is he pissy?” Jongdae asks, eyebrow cocked while Chanyeol fumbles at the notion of admitting to his own boyfriend that he’d been fantasising about sucking him off in the backseat for like, the entire goddamn shift. 

“Ummmmmm no reason,” Chanyeol quickly supplies, as Jongdae gives him a sideways look.

“The vinyl’s gonna get all wet,” he mumbles, steering wheel sliding smoothly between his palms. _That’s not the only thing that could get wet_ , Chanyeol’s brain uselessly supplies. Great. “There must be some reason Junmyeon wasn’t happy.” Jongdae tries again, another pointed glance.

“I was um. A little distracted,” Chanyeol admits, twiddling his thumbs.

“From...?” Jongdae prompts.

“Thinking about you,” Chanyeol admits, and Jongdae looks taken aback for a second, before quickly smiling his sharp, knowing grin.

“Yeah well, what else is new?” He teases. “I’m a very distracting man.”

“Oh, because you never think about me on shift, right?” Chanyeol prods, rolling his eyes fondly. “Especially after we apparently decided to become abstinent?”

Jongdae grimaces. “Don’t even joke about that,” he warns, pulling an ugly face. Chanyeol laughs, albeit a little painfully.

“Life’s two greatest evils:" he jokes. "Pineapple on pizza and no sex.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Jongdae says, punching Chanyeol’s shoulder across the console as he just snickers. “Pineapple on pizza is a godsend.” He shakes his head, while Chanyeol rubs at the now-tender spot. “After five years of going strong this is how it ends: the legitimacy of a pizza topping.”

“It could be worse,” Chanyeol offers. “At least we didn’t break up out of sexual frustration.”

It’s meant to be a casual joke, but apparently it isn’t, as Jongdae raises a pointed eyebrow and flicks a glance at Chanyeol.

“It’s really getting to you, huh?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“Ugh,” Chanyeol groans, slumping in his seat, holding his head in his hands. “I wish I was better than this.”

Jongdae laughs lightly. “I guess I just have that effect on people,” the car slows down as he pulls up in front of the Byun farm --Chanyeol’s getting paid fifteen bucks an hour to help out around the stables in the afternoons while Baekhyun finishes up with lessons. It’s not great, by any means, but Chanyeol is happy to help out the Byuns, and Baekhyun’s mom always gives him free food when he’s done, which is a definite plus. Chanyeol gives Jongdae a flat look.

“ _Hey_ ,” Jongdae starts over the console, as the engine switches off, forcing Chanyeol to relax his stubborn frown. “Once Kyungsoo is back at uni--”

“In _September_ ,” Chanyeol whines; it’s still only July.

“--but once he is, we can go back to routine, okay?” Still frowning at Jongdae, he leans across the centre console to kiss Chanyeol, who instantly melts into it because of who he is as a person. “I really am sorry, Yeollie.”

Chanyeol sighs, opening the door. “It’s not your fault,” he mutters, and then cups Jongdae’s jaw to pull him back in for another kiss, slower, at first, until Jongdae’s biting on his lip and Chanyeol grunts, running his tongue across the length of Jongdae’s--

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” he pulls back, flushed a little bit, but it’s nice to know that something as simple as a kiss can work up even Jongdae at this rate. “I have to go to work.”

“You always have to go to work,” Chanyeol sighs, pressing his forehead into the curve of Jongdae’s neck, nipping at the flesh, once, almost petulantly, but he catches the way Jongdae’s fingers clench. “Why can’t you just not be hardworking and still earn money?”

Laughing, Jongdae pushes Chanyeol’s pouting face off his shoulder, and tilts his chin behind him, to where Baekhyun is standing by the front gate, clearly unimpressed.

“You have a job to do too,” he says, and leaves one last chaste kiss. “Later, okay?”

“That’s what you always say,” Chanyeol mumbles, watching as Jongdae’s car sprays mud as it speeds off into the distance. To himself, he says, “‘ _Eventually_ ’.” It’s kind of becoming their _always_ , or something equally as awful and heterosexual.

“Better to have blue-balls than be single,” Baekhyun adds wisely from behind him, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol just groans.

 

 

 

In all honesty, it’s getting a little bit ridiculous.

Jongdae and Chanyeol can only manage time to see each other in the rides Jongdae gives Chanyeol to the Byun farm on his way to the diner, and it’s becoming quickly apparent to Chanyeol just how much summer _sucks_ , this year. Between picking up the extra job and Jongdae covering more shifts since so many others have gone elsewhere over the break, their time together is running thinner and thinner and Chanyeol is about to _snap_.

Because he _can’t_ stop thinking about Jongdae, more than he usually does, and ninety-five percent of the thoughts are definitely not appropriate for children, as most Jongdae-related things tend not to be. (At least, in Chanyeol’s eyes. Jongdae makes getting spaghetti sauce on his own face look _sexy_.) 100% of those ninety-five involve car sex, to some capacity.

Which is why Chanyeol appreciates the gesture of Jongdae taking him on a date, really, he _does_ , it’s just… well, time between them is few and far between; why are they wasting it at a drive-in theatre, of all things? Even if Chanyeol loves tacky 80’s sci-fi flicks and Jongdae rearranged his shifts to make sure they could go together, they could’ve watched this in Chanyeol’s room at his parents house, at least squeezing in a handjob if they were quick enough, or something--

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae says, ever-perceptive, and Chanyeol snaps out of his daze, blinking at him. “This date sucks, huh?”

“What?” Chanyeol argues. “No!” He pushes himself off of Jongdae’s chest to look down at him, blanket slipping off his shoulder as Jongdae bites his lips. “This is perfect,” he blurts, correcting it to, “Being with you is always perfect…” Chanyeol trails off.

Jongdae wrinkles his nose, sitting up a little straighter.

“Gay,” he teases, and flicks one of the popcorn pieces at Chanyeol’s nose, who can only watch as it flutters to the seat between them.

Popcorn.

Salt.

Mess.

 _Jongdae’s car_.

“Wait,” Chanyeol says suddenly, pushing himself away from Jongdae, and points at the popcorn kernel. “Why doesn’t that bother you?”

Jongdae blinks down at the offender in question, then back up at Chanyeol, body twisted all crookedly in an attempt to fit in the back seat, front chairs pushed down.

“Why would it?” He asks, tilting his head.

“ _Um_ ,” Chanyeol squeaks, almost offended. “You once made me take my shoes off before getting in your car, Dae.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the upholstery is covered by blankets--” he gestures between them where, yeah, Jongdae’s pulled out a picnic blanket and some spare _Star Wars_ sheets for the occasion, so they could cuddle together even though it’s a billion degrees. “--So why would I care?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chanyeol blurts. “That’s all it takes? Some blankets?”

Jongdae furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“We could have been using your car to fuck this entire time because all it took was some _blankets_!??!?!?”

“And I repeat:” Jongdae says. “ _What_?”

“After this movie ends,” Chanyeol hisses, because ten bucks is still ten bucks and damn it they’re poor millenials, they will get their goddamn money’s worth. “You’ll drive us to a very very very secluded area and you will fuck me in this car Jongdae Kim or so help me god.”

“Wait, _what_?” Jongdae says, startled, sitting up quickly. “You’re okay with car sex?”

“Um,” Chanyeol gestures vaguely. “ _Duh_.”

“But you hate public sex!” Jongdae whisper-yells, leaning forward to turn down the radio, which had been blasting the movies strange, poorly-made SFX.

“It’s a car!” Chanyeol argues back and… why are they even arguing? “That’s barely public sex!”

“It’s still a crime!!!!”

“ _I don’t care_ ,” Chanyeol hisses, and then leans forward to kiss Jongdae with no constraints, clashing their teeth together uncomfortably until they readjust, finding their rhythm with ease. Chanyeol piles onto Jongdae’s lap, whose hands spread out against his hip bones, and it’s nice, somehow, to get all worked up like this and know--

“ _Ow_ ,” Chanyeol whines, as his head hits the rooftop and he groans, collapsing off of Jongdae, defeated, as he rubs the back of his skull. Jongdae just snickers, leaning forward to turn the sound back up and pulling Chanyeol against his chest, kissing the top of his head.

“Movie’s nearly over,” he says, rubbing Chanyeol’s shoulder, and Chanyeol pouts up at him, while Jongdae leaves a kiss on his nose. “Pretty sure we can wait a little bit longer.”

“If I die within the next ten minutes,” Chanyeol mumbles, snuggling further into Jongdae’s side. “Tell your dick I loved him.”

Jongdae just laughs.

Chanyeol hasn’t eagerly put on a seatbelt since he was like, ten, or something, but by the time the credits roll he and Jongdae are up and out of the car to push the seats back into place, engine already started by the time Chanyeol hears the belt click. It’s an antsy sort of anticipation he hasn’t felt since he was twenty and he and Jongdae had first started messing around, but maybe the nerves make it all the better, in hindsight, the climax before the… actual… climax. Or two, depending on how they’re feeling.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Jongdae asks, as the car rolls to a stop in the middle of nowhere, some kind of carpark, maybe? It’s way too dark to tell. Perfect. “If you want me to take you home or--”

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol interrupts, giving him a _look_. This _was_ Chanyeol’s idea, arguably, although apparently Jongdae had been having similar thoughts anyway. God, why had it taken them so long to do this. “Shut up.”

It doesn’t take much coaxing before Jongdae is scrambling across the console and into Chanyeol’s lap, knees on other side of his thighs as they kiss without restraints, Jongdae not hitting his head on the rooftop because he’s not a human freak of nature. It feels so _good_ , to touch Jongdae like this, run his hands underneath his shirt, scrape his nails down his back, slip his hands into Jongdae’s back pockets and palm his A++ ass.

And when Jongdae groans, there’s no guilt behind it, no fear or nervousness or anything at being caught; Jongdae groans, and Chanyeol eagerly swallows it, rolling their hips together and grunting in return.

“Fuck,” Jongdae pants out, as Chanyeol kisses the underside of his jaw, sucking red spots on his neck, but not enough to leave any bruises. “It’s been so fucking _long_.”

“You’re telling me,” Chanyeol means to tease, but it kind of becomes a groan as he rolls his hips up just as Jongdae moves down, making his shorts increasingly uncomfortable. “Fucking _hell_ , Jongdae.”

“You’re even easier than usual,” Jongdae notes, giggling as he pulls back, making Chanyeol whine. He tilts his head, considering. “So what do you wanna do?”

“Anything,” Chanyeol complains, hips tilting forward a little just to keep that friction there. “ _God_.”

“Handjobs, then?” Jongdae teases, smirking.

“Anything… substantial,” Chanyeol corrects, and Jongdae snickers as he opens the passenger door and steps out, causing Chanyeol to groan as he stands.

“Get into the backseat, kay?” Jongdae says, but it _feels_ more like an order, which kind of makes Chanyeol want to obey even more, obediently piling into the backseat and waiting as Jongdae walks around to the driver’s side, pushing the seat forward so that there’s more leg space for Chanyeol’s amount of leg, rummaging through the glove box on the other side.

“What?” Chanyeol asks, after too much silence and rummaging. Jongdae smiles sheepishly.

“Well,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think my condoms are expired.”

“That’s… an actual tragedy,” Chanyeol says, after a moment of deliberation, Jongdae sighing in agreement. “For sale: dusty, expired condoms. Never used even though the owner has a boyfriend.”

Jongdae grunts, running a hand through his hair, displacing the blonde locks. His roots are showing, Chanyeol should find a time to help him with that.

“I think--” Jongdae rummages further, finds a box at the back, holding it up with a victorious _a-ha!_ “I have a single, unexpired condom.”

“And all the infinite possibilities it holds,” Chanyeol jokes, as Jongdae just snorts, shutting the glove box and turning to face Chanyeol.

“Moment of truth,” he starts, and holds the condom up. “We only have one shot, so: do you want me to fuck you, or eat you out?”

Just the thought has Chanyeol shuddering a little bit, near-whimpering beneath Jongdae’s knowing smirk, his darkened eyes.

“Why are you even bothering to ask?” Chanyeol mutters, and Jongdae laughs delightedly, stepping out and pushing the seat down, walking around the car to enter the backseat on the other side, and clambering forward between Chanyeol’s knees, cornering him against the door as they kiss. Jongdae wastes no time with pushing his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth, and Chanyeol whimpers, worked up purely through anticipation and grinding, half-hard. Jongdae gives slow, punctuated rolls of his hips between Chanyeol’s thighs as they pull their shirts off, tossing them to the front of the car. Chanyeol’s lands on top of the steering wheel, hanging off of it.

“He shoots he scores,” Chanyeol mumbles, as Jongdae just laughs against his neck, kissing down his clavicle, his chest, his abdomen, and then retracing his steps, tongue and teeth and all. Every piece of skin Jongdae runs his hands over burns beneath his palms, and Chanyeol whines at the building pressure of it all, as Jongdae’s fingertips dip beneath the waistband of his underwear and shorts both, nails scraping along Chanyeol’s hipbones.

“Good to go?” Jongdae asks, and Chanyeol nods quickly enough to give himself whiplash, Jongdae only giggling breathily as he makes a show of running his hands down the tops of Chanyeol’s thighs, dragging the shorts off with him. It takes a little bit of wriggling and Jongdae exclaims an _ow_ when he accidentally elbows the door behind him, but he manages to crouch on the floor of the car with Chanyeol’s knees over his shoulders, kissing the insides of his thighs.

For Chanyeol, it’s an even tighter squeezed, neck craned and back aching a little bit as he half hunches, pushed against the door, legs spread out, but he’s really too fucking turned on to care.

Jongdae moves from thigh to thigh until Chanyeol is choking out a, “ _Please_ ,” so easily unravelled beneath Jongdae’s tongue and fingers. He _feels_ Jongdae smirk against the skin as his tongue presses over Chanyeol’s cock through the cotton of his briefs, wet and hot and making Chanyeol squirm. Jongdae hooks his fingers on the back of Chanyeol’s underwear, nails lightly scraping over his ass as he pulls them down and then back up, running them the whole way down Chanyeol’s legs until he’s naked and spread out on the back of Jongdae’s car.

Holy _shit_.

Chanyeol groans, and Jongdae smirks between his thighs. “Can I keep going?”

“I’m already fucking naked,” Chanyeol says, a little more breathless than he’d like to be; the picnic blanket is scratching his bare ass. “Just finish the job.”

Jongdae laughs at that, and then makes a show of licking up the underside of Chanyeol’s cock, causing Chanyeol to gasp and arch his back a little, thighs squeezing around Jongdae’s head as his fingers grasp at the headrest uselessly, nails scratching on vinyl.

“S-Shit Dae,” he manages, thrusting into the air uselessly, and Jongdae laughs, pleased at how easily worked up Chanyeol is, nearly fully hard. Years of sleeping together ensures Jongdae sucks Chanyeol the way off the way _he_ wants it, not the way Chanyeol does; slow and torturous, licking the sides, swirling around the head, sucking on the top pointedly but never bobbing down. This isn’t the main event, to Jongdae, this is just the warm up.

(If there’s anything Jongdae enjoys, it’s taking Chanyeol apart, and if there’s anything Chanyeol enjoys, it’s letting him.)

Jongdae crooks his arm almost awkwardly over Chanyeol’s legs to give him a few firm strokes, Chanyeol bucking into the dry heat of his palm, desperate for more.

“Hang on,” Jongdae says, and pushes Chanyeol’s thighs off of himself as he crawls forward for the glove box again, pulling out a first aid kid.

“Dick so bomb you got injured, huh?” Chanyeol says, and Jongdae gives him a flat look before pulling out a pair of scissors used for cutting bandages, opening the condom packet and cutting off the tip and base, slicing down the middle until he has a decent square of rubber, picking up the half-empty lube bottle too.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chanyeol grunts, as Jongdae easily hitches his thighs over his shoulders and smirks at him, licking his cock again just for good measure.

“Ready?” Jongdae asks, as Chanyeol nods and swallows, humming as Jongdae presses the first lubed finger through, just enough for Chanyeol to press back down against, sighing, adding a second finger just to open it up a little. Satisfied, Jongdae spreads the makeshift dental dam over the area, and then uses his fingers to spread Chanyeol’s cheeks apart further. Chanyeol’s hand reaches forward to keep his balls out of Jongdae’s face, because he’s considerate like that, and he nearly dislocates Jongdae’s neck when Jongdae finally, _finally_ presses his tongue down, just from Chanyeol’s thighs clamping together.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chanyeol grunts, because his toe had kind of jabbed against the rooftop and also Jongdae is _eating him out_ , laughing as Chanyeol can’t help but press further into it, digging one hand into Jongdae’s blonde hair just to keep himself grounded. Jongdae’s tongue should be illegal, pressing in and pulling out, circling and swirling around the centre, fingers kneading Chanyeol’s ass beside his face. One hand drops out, at some stage, probably so Jongdae can touch himself, and that just turns Chanyeol on even more, knowing how much Jongdae gets off just on making Chanyeol feel good.

Chanyeol moans, pressing Jongdae’s face further in, which means Jongdae only pulls his tongue back further, always teasing and teasing and never just _enough_. Chanyeol whines, and it’s motivation enough for Jongdae to press back in, wet and hot and so _so_ good, licking along the length of Chanyeol’s perineum, kissing along the sides, eating him out so earnestly and devotedly, and leaving his body shaking beneath Jongdae’s tongue alone.

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae pants, as he pulls back, Chanyeol’s head hitting the window as he leans against the door, grunting. God, car sex kind of fucking sucks, but, again: way too turned on to care. Jongdae licks his lips, leaving the rubber on the blanket, and Chanyeol groans all over again. “Can I fuck your thighs?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Chanyeol says, eyes squeezing shut at the flood of arousal that thrums through his veins. Why hadn't he thought of that? “Do it.”

Jongdae grins mischievously at that, and then directs Chanyeol to get on all fours --a much more comfortable position, arguably-- managing to fit each limb on the back seat and everything, while Jongdae makes various struggled noises behind him in an attempt to get his shorts off.

“Shut it,” he hisses, while Chanyeol laughs at him, barking out in pain when his head hits the ceiling. Serves him right. “This kinda sucks.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agrees, laughing. The windows are all fogged up. “But it’s still hot.”

“Definitely,” Jongdae mumbles, as he kisses down Chanyeol’s spine and along his shoulder blades, pouring lube onto his fingers again and smearing it along Chanyeol’s perineum, inner thighs, and his own cock, nearly fully hard all from eating Chanyeol out and touching himself. _God_. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol manages, breathless, and Jongdae groans as his dick slides between Chanyeol’s thighs, squeezing around him purposefully.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongdae breathes out, and he’s not even thrusting yet, laughing incredulously. Chanyeol’s hot and sweaty and his knees hurt, body still aching from having been forced to pack into a car like a troupe of clowns, but it all just makes it better, somehow, as Jongdae starts off with slow, careful thrusts. It’s the sensations of it all that gets to Chanyeol, the friction Jongdae creates, his hips slapping against Chanyeol’s ass accompanied by his groaning, as Chanyeol balances himself with one hand on the door in front of him and the other around his own cock, the movement of thrusting back against Jongdae pushing him in and out of his own fist, car quaking beneath their hurried movements.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongdae breathes out, getting faster, but losing rhythm, and Chanyeol squeezes again, just to drink in the sound of Jongdae’s moans. “Fuck. _Chanyeol_.”

“Don’t make too much of a mess,” Chanyeol warns, albeit slightly breathless, and curls his fists when he feels Jongdae come between his thighs, warm and sticky. Jongdae collapses behind him with a breathy laugh, weighing over Chanyeol’s back, and Chanyeol whines, so _close_ , before Jongdae manages to reach down and curl a hand around his wrist, stopping him.

“My job,” he warns, then pants. “Just-- just gimme a sec--”

Chanyeol laughs. “Unbelievable.” Even when Jongdae’s exhausted from coming and about two seconds away from his token sleepy post-sex haze, he still wants to be a fucking control freak. Jongdae pulls back, and obediently, Chanyeol turns around, trying not to think about how much Jongdae is going to need to wash the blanket beneath them.

There’s still come drying between his thighs and lube dripping down his backside, but Chanyeol quickly forgets about that as Jongdae wraps his mouth around Chanyeol’s cock and sucks downwards, bobbing his head and rubbing his tongue along the underside, swirling it around the tip, opening the back of his throat and openly inviting Chanyeol to fuck his mouth.

“Shit,” Chanyeol says, bucking up, as Jongdae looks up at him through his eyelashes and, well, can’t exactly smile with his mouth uh… occupied, but Chanyeol knows he’s doing it internally, pulling back when Chanyeol does and pushing forward in unison too, hollowing his cheeks.

“So good,” Chanyeol praises, so wet and warm and _so_ close. “So good to me,” he gasps out again, and Jongdae hums around him, inhaling deeply through his nose as Chanyeol manages one weak stutter of his hips, then another, digging his fingers into Jongdae’s hair and tugging, just to hear him groan again. “F-Fuck, _Jongdae_ \--”

“You look so beautiful like this,” Jongdae says as he pulls back, picking up the bottle of lube and pushing his fingers in at the perfect angle without fail, causing Chanyeol to cry out as the pressure builds up beneath his skin, a slow simmer. “Out here, in _public_. Imagine if somebody saw you like this, Yeollie, at how good you look for me--”

“ _Dae_ ,” Chanyeol interrupts, staring at Jongdae pointedly, who continues fingering him with a pout.

“You’re really not into exhbitionism?” He asks, as Chanyeol continues looking unimpressed, fucking himself back onto Jongdae’s hand. “Even though we’re literally having public sex right now?”

“ _No_ ,” Chanyeol says, and pinches Jongdae’s waist. “Now finish the job before your stupid kinks kill Chanyeol Jr.”

“Fine,” Jongdae says, disappointedly, and leans back down, mouth right at the head of Chanyeol’s dick.

Jongdae tongues the underside of Chanyeol’s cock, and then sucks down dedicatedly until he’s coming down Jongdae’s throat, who only swallows it all obediently like he always does, sucking him through it all until Chanyeol is whining and oversensitive and still doing it even then, reluctantly pulling back and wiping the saliva off his chin once Chanyeol begs him to stop, smiling down at him with an air of superiority that that mouth _definitely_ has the right to have.

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol says, and then slumps back, wincing as he hits his head on the door, rubbing it. Jongdae just laughs, crawling forward to pull out a packet of tissues from the glovebox --truly a place of all things useful-- and wiping all the excess come and lube off of Chanyeol’s body with delicate care, Chanyeol softening beneath his touch.

“We just committed a crime,” Jongdae yawns, scrunching the tissue into a ball and tossing it onto the ground without a care, leaning forward so that he can snuggle against Chanyeol’s chest.

“We did,” Chanyeol acknowledges, running his fingers through Jongdae’s hair. “We’re bad boys.”

“I’ve always been a bad boy,” Jongdae mutters. “Have you seen my car?”

Chanyeol snorts, and then Jongdae laughs alongside him, always so lazy and pliant post-orgasm. Which is a problem, because Chanyeol kind of is too. So much for round two.

“Dae,” Chanyeol says, running his fingers through Jongdae’s hair because he knows he likes it, who hums lazily and looks up at him. “I’m so fucking uncomfortable right now.”

Jongdae laughs, and pulls back, allowing Chanyeol to sit up properly instead of squished against the door with Jongdae’s weight on his chest. It’s way too warm and _wet_ for clothes right now, and Chanyeol sighs in relief as Jongdae leans forward to fiddle with the switches on the middle console, causing the roof-top to push back.

The sky's so clear, as it always is out in the countryside, littered with hundreds of stars. Jongdae pulls out one of the _Star Wars_ quilts he’d pushed away into the front corner and tugs it over them, so they’re no longer _quite_ as naked as they had been previously, out in the open.

“Tonight was nice,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol scoffs at him, even as he snuggles beneath his arm.

“That’s all?” Chanyeol prompts, wincing when he shifts. Talk about car-sex side effects. “Just nice?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, slapping his chest. “Well it was public indecency, a little bit cramped, and I’m worried my car is going to stink of sex for thirty years,” Jongdae huffs, relenting. “But yeah, it was better than nice I guess.”

“Good,” Chanyeol says happily, kissing the top of Jongdae’s head and rubbing circles on the outside of his shoulder as he glances up, breathing in the fresh air while trying to trace the constellations he might’ve known, at one stage or another, on Jongdae’s bare skin.

“Maybe…” Jongdae starts suddenly, and Chanyeol looks down, humming to show he’s listening. “Maybe after summer, once Kyungsoo is gone…” he bites his lip, and Chanyeol furrows his eyebrows, waiting. “Well, you could... Stay in my bedroom? Permanently? That way we can fuck whenever we want?”

Chanyeol pauses.

He looks down at Jongdae, blinking.

“Are you--” Chanyeol falters. “--Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Jongdae opens his mouth, hesitates. “That depends,” he says, slowly. “Are you going to say yes?”

“I--” Chanyeol hasn’t even thought about it, really, moving out of his parents’ place and having to pay his own bills and shit, let alone doing it with _Jongdae_. That’s like… serious commitment. Very serious commitment. “--Of course I’m going to say yes???”

Jongdae sighs shortly, relaxing. “Good,” he says, and kisses Chanyeol’s chest. “I mean, we can work out the details later, but… yeah. Move in with me, Yeollie. Eventually.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, because that’s all it takes, content. "Eventually, I will." He shifts, slightly. “I love you.”

Jongdae hums. “Love you too,” he says easily, exhaling relaxingly as he leans into Chanyeol’s arms, and looks up.

They wait in the silence.

“We should probably leave before we get arrested,” Jongdae says suddenly.

“Agreed,” Chanyeol replies, and they laugh as they scramble to find their clothes and pile back into the front, still giggling even as they drive away, the night following them every step of the way.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry.  
> [title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SyhipxNGwM) | [the car in question](https://www.flickr.com/photos/43908282@N08/8641739732/in/photolist-eaDb9C-c8zCL7-dobjmW-dobjiw-dobbj4-dobjgf-cUgE83-cUgDkQ-cUgDHL-83dW9Z-83h5fh-83h5xb-a3bckz-dRd5Ey-7AMHBg-e1NHrR-8Mjbpv-8SqQhn-8VkyUm-8VkyUq-8Vkwg7-8Vkwgs-8VkyUw-b6RBHK-9Zuus7-djfeuU-cot5FE-cot6mQ-cot77Q/)  
> 


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